


From So Far Away You Journey

by alma_gloriosa



Category: Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies)
Genre: AU Alternate Universe, Adoption, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, Leonard McCoy/Jocelyn, Minor Character Death, Tarsus IV
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-01-03
Updated: 2015-01-10
Packaged: 2018-03-05 04:21:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 5,495
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3105527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/alma_gloriosa/pseuds/alma_gloriosa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>While attending the funeral of his cousins, ill-fated colonists of Tarsus IV, Leonard McCoy witnesses what he believes to be the abuse of Jim Kirk, the boy who saved their daughter, Lila.  When Leonard reports what he saw and discovers that Jim has nowhere else to go, he sets into motion a series of events that will change both his and Jim's lives forever.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. The Funeral

Leonard McCoy snuck away from the crowd that lingered in the church, moving in the opposite direction from the hall where the majority of people were slowly headed. He could feel the weight of the flask he’d tucked into his inner jacket pocket and it was reminding him how very badly he needed a drink right now. Hadn’t he just been to one of these things a few months ago? The fact that this was a funeral for his cousins, Ash and his wife Nicole, didn’t make it any easier, not considering the circumstances of their deaths.

He shuddered as he recalled the news reports he had managed to watch before proceeding to avoid all media outlets. He knew enough about what had happened on Tarsus IV and the genocide ordered by Governor Kodos to know that he _didn’t_ want to know anything more. He didn’t want to think about how Ash and Nicole’s lives had been stolen when he himself had been the one to steal his father’s. He didn’t want to think about all of the nameless, faceless people who had suffered through something Leonard couldn’t even imagine. Thus the bourbon he so desperately needed but didn’t dare take out where his mama could see. 

With relief, he started to step into the side alcove, knowing he could get a moment’s privacy to take a few swigs and calm his nerves, but stopped dead in his tracks before moving to the side, all but hidden from the view behind a column. The room was not empty. Alone in it were two children, one very young and one on the verge of adulthood, though you couldn’t tell by the kid’s emaciated frame. Leonard knew who the children were. One was Ash and Nicole’s daughter, Lila, six years old. The other was the boy who had saved her from Kodos and kept her alive for more than a month before Starfleet showed up for rescue. Kirk was his last name, but Leonard was blanking on his first name. 

The boy, Kirk, was kneeling down in front of Lila, who clung to him as though she might never let go. Kirk was running one hand soothingly down her back because, despite the fact that she was not crying, her face was red and she appeared highly distressed. Her next words confirmed this. 

“ _Please_ , Jim, please don’t go!” Lila spoke with the soft, high-pitched voice of a pleading young girl. “I want to stay with you.” 

“I know, Lila-bear,” Jim said softly. “But you can’t. I have to go home.” 

“But who’s going to take _care_ of me?” she asked. 

“You have your grandma and grandpa,” Jim replied. “They’re going to take _really_ good care of you, I promise.” 

“But _you_ took really good care of me, Jim,” Lila protested. “Nobody can take better care of me. You didn’t let the bad guys get me.” 

McCoy couldn’t see Jim Kirk’s face, but he did see the boy’s arms tighten around the little girl. “I did my best,” he said. “But we’re back on earth now. The bad guys can’t get you here. And your grandparents are adults. I’m not. They don’t think I can take care of you. They think _I_ need taken care of, too.” 

“But Jim, what if they come for grammy and grandpa like they did for mommy and daddy?” 

“They won’t, Lils,” Jim said. “They can’t hurt anyone anymore. It’ll be ok. But you _have_ to go back with them now. I have to go.” 

Lila let out a small, heart-wrenching sob. Leonard could see tears leaking out of her eyes. “If I go with grammy and grandpa, couldn’t you come with me?” 

“I can’t, Lila, I’m sorry. They won’t let me. I have to go with Frank.” 

“Is he going to take care of you like grammy and grandpa are going to take care of me?” Lila asked. 

There was a pause. Leonard perked up his ears. “Something like that,” the boy finally mumbled. 

“I’ll miss you, Jim.” Lila showed no signs of letting go. 

“I’ll miss you, too,” Jim told her. 

“I’ll be scared without you,” Lila continued. 

“You don’t need to be scared anymore,” Jim said. “But when you are, just tell an adult. They’ll make it go away.” 

“Please, Jim,” Lila begged, one last time. 

Jim didn’t say anything this time, just reached up and slowly unwound Lila’s arms from around his neck. It wasn’t an easy task; Lila’s grip was tight. He ended up taking her hands in his so that she didn’t try to reattach herself. 

“I’m sorry, Lila. I really have to go now. I promise we’ll keep in touch. You can send me messages, and maybe we’ll be able to see each other over the summer.” 

Lila was looking at him through tear-filled eyes. “I love you, Jim.” 

Leonard watched as the boy’s shoulders slumped. As he stood, he leaned over and placed one small kiss on Lila’s forehead. “I love you, too, Lila.” 

After a long moment of the two unlikely friends staring at one another, Jim stepped past Lila and, without looking back, pushed through a side door that Leonard hadn’t even realized was there until that moment. Leonard waited while Lila turned and stared at the door as though Jim would burst back through it, sniffling through her tears when he didn’t. Finally, Leonard stepped forward, out of the shadows. 

“Lila,” he said softly. 

The little girl spun. She looked terrified. It hit Leonard all over again, the news of what had happened on Tarsus. How many years would this precious little girl spend being terrified of every stranger who looked her way? 

“Who are you?” she demanded. With Jim gone, her tone was harder, unusual for a small girl. 

“I’m … you can call me Uncle Leo,” he said. “It’s ok, I’m not going to hurt you. Why don’t we get you back to your grammy and grandpa?” 

Leonard thought of his Uncle Calvin and Aunt Shelby. They must be wondering where Lila had wandered off to. They must be worried sick. 

Lila nodded, but she did not move to take the hand that Leonard offered, so instead he took a few steps until he was back in the main church. Most of the people had left the church for the hall where food awaited, but Uncle Cal was moving around the church, searching. Rather than walking Lila over to her grandfather, he pointed her in the right direction. 

“Go on, now,” he said. “Your grandpa is looking for you.” 

Lila turned to give Leonard one last look, and then she took off across the church. Leonard made sure Uncle Cal had spotted her, then made his way back into the alcove. It occurred to him that he had never gotten his drink, and after witnessing the scene between Lila and her protector, he needed it more badly than ever. Goddammit. He was in a church and yet the thoughts running through his mind were distinctly blasphemous. _What the hell kind of God lets children go through something like that?_

Suddenly fuming, Leonard knew he needed to get out of the church as soon as possible. He stepped into the bright afternoon sunlight. It seemed wrong that the day was so gorgeous. He hurried to pull out his flask and uncap it, taking a long swig and enjoying the burn down his throat. It wasn’t until after he’d taken a second drink that he heard the voices coming from the parking lot. For the second time in ten minutes, Leonard found himself eavesdropping on Jim Kirk. 

The boy was standing probably a hundred feet away, not far from a generic-looking silver hovercar. The car’s driver-side door was open and a man stood just outside it, one arm resting on the door. Jim’s back was once again to Leonard, but Leonard could see the man’s face, and he didn’t look happy. 

“Get in the damn car, Jimmy,” he snarled. 

“Please, Frank,” Jim said. “Just let me stay for a little while longer. Lila’s really upset.” 

“Lila doesn’t need you anymore, boy,” the man, Frank, said. “She’s got a whole big family in there. What I need is for you to get in the car. If we don’t leave now we’ll have to wait three hours for the next transport.” 

“No!” Jim said, surprising Leonard as he stood his ground. “I don’t want to go anywhere with you.” 

Frank’s glare got darker. He pushed away from the car and began stalking around it. Leonard didn’t like where this was going, but he knew that interfering might only make the situation worse. He decided, however, to stay outside and see how events played out. 

“You listen here, _Jimmy_ ,” Frank growled, taking hold of Jim’s upper arm. He pulled a little, but Jim resisted. “I already had to take off a day of work to bring you to this miserable thing, and I got things I need to go home and do.” 

Jim continued to struggle against Frank’s grip. When he spoke, it was low enough that Leonard almost couldn’t hear. “Like what? Spend some time with your friend Jack Daniels?” 

What happened next occurred so quickly that Leonard didn’t even have time to react. With an extra forceful pull on the kid’s arm, Frank had Jim slamming into the side of the car. Jim let out a small cry of pain but pushed himself off the metal as quickly as he’d been pushed into it. Frank, however, was already wrenching the car door open. Leonard couldn’t be sure whether Jim allowed himself to be pushed into the passenger seat or not, but there was one thing he did know. 

Whoever this Frank was to Jim, he was abusive. He doubted Jim had been truly injured by his impact with the car, but that wasn’t the point. Even if Jim _had_ been doing something really bad (and Leonard wouldn’t define his mouthing off as _really_ bad by any means), and even if he’d been a healthy, strong fourteen year old, what Frank had done would still count as assault. The fact that he’d done it to a severely underweight teenager who’d just survived – not only survived, but protected others from – the largest mass killing in modern history … it made Leonard sick to think about it. 

He realized, as the silver hovercar started up and tore out of the parking lot like a bat out of hell, that maybe he should have done something. Gone and taken Jim back inside, called a social worker or something. But the situation might have escalated if he’d tried. He might have found himself face to face with Frank, and Leonard wasn’t going to kid himself, he’d never been much of a fighter. There was nothing he could have done. At least this was what he tried to tell himself. 

Nevertheless, with a sigh, Leonard capped his flask and hid it back away, popping a breath mint to mask the smell of bourbon. There was nothing he could have done in that moment, but there was something he could do now.


	2. The Decision

His uncle had seemed confused when Leonard asked for contact information about the social worker who had gotten Lila into their custody upon her return to earth, but he’d given it to him, anyway. The social worker was a local one, working for the state of Georgia and was not in any way connected to one James Kirk, but upon Leonard’s pronouncement that he was worried for the safety of one of the other juvenile Tarsus survivors, she had forwarded him along to the Federation social worker who had been on the starship that brought Lila, Jim, and the others back to earth.

“What did you say your name was again?” the woman, a Ms. Frederica Marsh, asked after Leonard had summarily stated his concern for Jim Kirk. 

“Leonard McCoy,” Leonard answered. 

“And how do you know Mr. Kirk?” she asked. 

“Well, I don’t _know_ him per se,” Leonard said, trying not to feel self-conscious over what was clearly a sensitive topic. “I saw him at the funeral of my cousins, Ash and Nicole McCoy.” 

“Oh. Of course,” Ms. Marsh said. “Their daughter Lila became quite attached to Jim, didn’t want to leave him. Understandable considering the circumstances.” 

“Agreed,” Leonard replied. “He didn’t seem exactly eager to be parted from her either.” 

“Ok, so, Mr. McCoy, can you explain exactly why you called? What is it that makes you worried for Jim?” 

Leonard sighed, and relayed the scene he had witnessed in the parking lot. “I know it doesn’t really seem like much, and the kid was being kind of mouthy, but doctors are trained to spot warning signs of abuse and the dynamic just didn’t seem right to me.” 

Ms. Marsh tilted her head. “Are you a doctor?” 

“Not yet,” Leonard replied. “Third year medical student.” 

She nodded. Leonard wondered whether she would end up taking his account more seriously because of the fact that he was in a respected position; the idea bothered him somewhat. Being a doctor – a not-even doctor at this point – was no guarantee that he was a good person. 

“Well, Mr. McCoy, I have to agree. What you’ve told me definitely raises some signals that we’re always on the look-out for.” 

“Ok,” Leonard said calmly. “So, uh … what happens now?” 

“Well, a note will be made in the file about your call and its content. You’ll be kept completely anonymous unless you wish to be otherwise. If this were the only concern we had about Jim, what it would result in are more frequent and also random visits, as well as visits to Jim alone, when he’s at school, for example. The social worker on his case would look for any unexplained injuries, behavioral incidents that may indicate trouble in the home. Any major concerns would mean removal of Jim from that environment, but unfortunately right now it’s the best option we have for him.” 

Leonard couldn’t help a feeling of indignation at her words. “What does that mean? How can a likely abusive home be the best option for a kid who just came back from a living nightmare?” 

“Mr. McCoy, calm down, please,” Ms. Marsh requested. 

“And you said something about my report not being your only concern. Does that mean _other_ people think the kid’s being abused?” 

“Mr. McCoy!” Ms. Marsh didn’t yell but her voice was firm. “I want you to look at me.” 

Leonard did so, though he wasn’t sure what he was supposed to be looking at. The woman was probably around forty. She had honey-colored hair and hazel eyes and her face was a little bit on the long side. She was plain but kind-looking. 

“Do you believe that I care about doing what’s best for Jim Kirk? For every child that crosses my path?” 

“Well … yeah, I suppose so.” 

“Do you believe that I would do everything in my power to protect a child from abuse?” 

“Well, of course, but …”

“Then I need you to trust me,” Ms. Marsh said. “I legally can’t tell you anything more about Jim or his situation. All I can tell you is that I am going to be watching him even though his case has technically passed off to an Iowa state social worker. I appreciate your concern, more than you know, and what you’ve told me could be helpful if we do have to remove Jim from his current home. But I’m afraid that I can’t say any more than that.” 

Leonard sighed. “I understand.” And truly, he did. As a doctor, he was going to have to keep a lot of secrets that he sometimes may wish he didn’t have to keep, so he could understand Ms. Marsh’s perspective as a professional in her field. Nevertheless … “Can I make one request? It would be more of a personal request.” 

“You may ask,” Ms. Marsh said. 

“Could you, personally, just … let me know how things work out for him? I mean, no details or anything, I get that. But if you could just let me know if I was wrong about his situation … or if you managed to find someplace better for him?” 

Ms. Marsh sighed. “Mr. McCoy, I’m really not allowed to do that.” 

“I know you’re not allowed,” McCoy said, wanting to sigh as well. “But if I don’t hear something I’ll always wonder what happened to that kid. How would you feel if you were on a case and someone else took it over and you never found out what happened?” 

“I would hate it,” Ms. Marsh agreed. “I would probably break the rules to find out. Ok, Mr. McCoy, but this is _entirely_ off the record. And no details.” 

“Agreed,” Leonard said. “No details.” 

********************

Leonard crawled back into bed after going to the bathroom for the second time that night. It wasn’t that he had really needed to go, rather that he’d woken up and been unable to go back to sleep. This had been happening to him frequently lately, though it bothered him more on the nights when Jocelyn spent the night, for some reason. 

He must have caused too much movement of the bed because Jocelyn’s sleepy voice broke the silence in which Leonard was attempting to find a comfortable position for his head. Since when was his damned pillow so damned hard? 

“Are you ok, Leo?” she asked, her head still resting on the pillow but turned to look at Leonard. 

He let out a frustrated sigh, flopping onto his back. “I’m fine, Joss. Just can’t sleep, you know?” 

She didn’t respond immediately, but instead moved, propping herself up on one elbow so that she could look down at him from above. Leonard was struck by how beautiful she was, even pulled from sleep, but it didn’t make him feel any better inside. 

“You’ve been having trouble sleeping for a couple weeks now,” she said. “What’s bothering you?” 

“It’s _nothing_ , Joss,” he said, more firmly this time. 

Jocelyn pursed her lips, but then softened and lay back down, snuggling into Leonard’s side. “Was it your cousins?” Jocelyn asked. “Ever since the funeral …”

“It’s not that,” Leonard said, knowing that it wasn’t. 

“It would be ok if it was,” Joss said. “I mean, after what happened with your dad …”

“You mean after I killed him?” Leonard asked. 

Jocelyn’s arms squeezed around him. “You _didn’t_ kill him, Leo,” she said. “It was an accident. I thought you had stopped tearing yourself up over that.” 

Of _course_ Leonard hadn’t stopped tearing himself up over that, but then Jocelyn didn’t know the real story. No one did except Leonard – and his father, but the man wasn’t exactly going to be talking about it any time soon. His distress immediately following his father’s death had been a hell of a lot more serious than it was now, but he’d dealt with it. He’d been talking to someone. 

Anyway, it wasn’t his father that was keeping him awake, not that Jocelyn would know that. Probably the whole thing seemed rather odd to her; Leonard had confided that while he’d always liked his cousin Ash, the man was ten years older than him so they’d never been exactly close. If she was in the mood for analyzing him – which she seemed to enjoy a little bit too much – she would likely be predicting that the funeral had brought back memories of his father’s. Which also wasn’t the case. 

Of course, it wasn’t Jocelyn’s fault that he hadn’t told her about Jim Kirk. What would he tell her, anyway? _By the way, I think I saw a kid being abused at Ash and Nicole’s funeral?_ There was nothing to tell. He’d relayed the pertinent information to a social worker who could actually use it, and that was that. Really, he should just forget about it. Why, then, did it seem to be so hard to do? 

Leonard couldn’t explain why the incident had shaken him up like it had, or why he was still worrying about Jim Kirk. There was nothing he could do, anyway. It was in the hands of the social workers now. But the woman with the Federation, Ms. Marsh, she had promised to contact Leonard when there was some sort of resolution with Jim’s case, and yet Leonard hadn’t heard from her in a couple weeks. She’d said they would make frequent visits, but what was even meant by frequent? Maybe that meant in a month, rather than two? Which, in Leonard’s opinion, was unacceptable. 

He was starting to think that maybe he should tell Jocelyn about it. Maybe getting it off his chest would help. But he realized belatedly he’d been silent for so long that she had fallen back to sleep, her head propped on the side of his chest. Leonard felt very nearly claustrophobic at the contact. He had a sudden urge to roll over, to break their contact. Instead, he just lay there, allowing Jocelyn to sleep. It was a long time before he finally fell into unconsciousness. 

********************

The call came three weeks after the funeral, fairly late in the evening. Leonard was glad that Jocelyn wasn’t there – she had a major exam the next day and had informed him that her study group would be working well into the night. He immediately recognized Ms. Marsh, though rather than the backdrop of an office that Leonard had seen before she now appeared to be on a couch in a living room; she was calling from home. Leonard supposed that made sense; she had informed him that she wasn’t technically supposed to be making such a call. 

“Mr. McCoy,” she greeted, but without so much as a smile. 

Leonard felt his heart sink. He had been waiting for an update on Jim’s situation, but he had a feeling he wasn’t going to like what that update entailed. “You have news on Jim?” 

Marsh sighed. “I do. It appears that you were correct, Mr. McCoy. Jim’s home environment is abusive. He was removed from it today.” 

Leonard felt a simultaneous sense of relief and worry. He was reassured by the announcement that Jim would no longer being staying with the man, Frank, but the way Marsh said it was worrisome. “Is he ok?” Leonard asked slowly. 

“He was … injured,” Marsh admitted. “But nothing life-threatening. Physically, he’ll be fine.” 

Leonard wasn’t sure how to take that news. It was an unsatisfying sense of relief, if he was being honest. “And you’ve found someone else to take him?” 

“He’s staying with someone from child protective services for the night. Tomorrow, he’ll be taken to a group home where he’ll be staying.” 

“A group home?” Leonard repeated. He didn’t like the sound of that. “Doesn’t he have any relatives he can stay with?” 

Ms. Marsh’s frown grew even more pronounced. “Mr. McCoy. I’m sure you know I’m not supposed to be making this call at all, let alone giving you any private details.” 

“I’m aware,” Leonard replied. “Why do I get the feeling that you want to give me all the details, anyway?” 

Ms. Marsh paused for a moment. “I’ve always enjoyed my job, Mr. McCoy. There are, of courses, cases that don’t work out as we’d like, children we just don’t manage to save, so to speak. But the good stories do outweigh the bad. I’ve never had a case like Jim Kirk’s. I’ve never had a case where there was a kid who could be reached only to find there’s nothing I can really do for him.” 

Leonard was struck by her words, thinking of his father, and how there was nothing Leonard could do for him except fulfill his terrible final request. “I know this is something people say, but … I understand.” 

“Mr. McCoy, if I discuss this with you … just to … let it out, you won’t tell anyone, will you? I can have confidence in your discretion?” 

“Absolutely, ma’am,” Leonard replied, both wanting to help Ms. Marsh as well as find out what he could about Jim. “I haven’t actually told anyone about Jim or what I saw, except you.” 

Marsh let out a long breath. “That actually does make me feel better,” she said. 

“So where do we begin?” 

“You asked about relatives,” she said. “No, he doesn’t have any. Jim’s mother, Winona, was the one who brought him to Tarsus, and she didn’t … well, from what little Jim’s been willing to tell me it sounds like she was the reason he was able to get away. And his father …” Marsh broke off before finishing. 

“Not a very good guy, huh?” Leonard asked. 

“Actually, quite the opposite. His father was a hero, Mr. McCoy. You’re young but you probably remember the Kelvin incident.” 

It took Leonard a moment to make the connection. Of course he remembered the Kelvin, in which the captain had sacrificed himself for the rest of the crew, the young captain named George Kirk … “Jesus, he’s _that_ Kirk?” Had the kid done something really terrible in a past life to deserve all this? 

“Indeed,” Marsh replied. “To make matters worse, both parents were only children. His maternal grandparents died in an accident before he was born, and his paternal grandparents were both gone by the time he was five. He has an older brother, George, though Jim calls him Sam, who’s seventeen, but no one knows where he is. Apparently, he ran away nine months before Jim and his mother went to Tarsus, and no one has heard from him since.” 

“Unlucky kid,” Leonard mumbled. “So what’s with Frank, the guy I saw him with?” 

“Frank Davis. He has been Jim’s stepfather since Jim was seven, when his mother was remarried. I don’t know how long the abuse has been going on for. I believe it’s safe to assume that it started before Jim went with his mother to Tarsus.” Ms. Marsh paused, considering her words. “This is speculation, of course, but I think it’s likely that Frank is the reason why Winona Kirk took her youngest son to Tarsus in the first place. Prior to that point, she had never taken a ground posting, and she had little relevant experience for the position. She probably wanted to get Jim away without having to go through the lengthy legal process of prosecuting Frank.” 

“I guess she wouldn’t have exactly been expecting a genocide on what was supposed to be a simple farming colony,” Leonard said. 

“Probably not,” Ms. Marsh agreed. 

“I guess what I still don’t get is why you can’t find someplace else for him. Isn’t there a family who’d be willing to take him in if they know he’s a Tarsus survivor and doesn’t have anywhere else to go? People are falling over themselves to help out.” 

Frederica Marsh sighed. “That’s the other part of the problem, the part that’s making this so hard. Jim Kirk also has a criminal record.” 

“He what?” Leonard was having a hard time wrapping his head around the fact that the kid he’d seen treating Lila with such gentleness could have done something to warrant an arrest. 

“At age twelve, Jim was charged with stealing a car and destruction of property.” 

“A car?” Leonard repeated. Why on earth would a twelve year old steal a car? 

“It’s a crappy situation,” Marsh continued. “It had been his father’s car. I can’t say what motivated Jim to steal it, but it wasn’t for his own pleasure. He drove it right over the edge of a quarry.” 

“Wait, and he’s still _alive_?” Leonard asked, incredulous. 

“Oh, yes, well, he didn’t go over the edge of the quarry with it, though the officer’s report claims it was a close call.” 

“That doesn’t sound like a crime it sounds like a damn suicide attempt,” Leonard said. 

“I don’t believe it was,” Marsh replied. “But it was certainly indicative of some major issues in the home. As was the fact that Frank, who technically co-owned the car with his wife, chose to press charges against his stepson. Unfortunately, the extenuating circumstances are not something people want to hear. When they find out the prospective child has a record, most people, well …”

“Pass on taking him? Yeah,” Leonard agreed. On the one hand, he understood, especially if the family had other children staying with them. On the other hand, if they would just listen to what Ms. Marsh had told him …

“Exactly,” Marsh said. She looked weary. “I mean, obviously the group home is better than being physically beaten by your guardian. But with eighteen other kids there, I’m afraid someone like Jim Kirk is going to be ‘lost in the system’ as they say. It’s a shame, a kid like him.” 

“You don’t have to tell me,” Leonard said. “Without him we would have been burying Lila along with her parents. Symbolically, of course. How many fourteen year olds would do that?” 

“I’m sorry to burden you with all of this, Mr. McCoy,” Ms. Marsh said quietly. “Perhaps I shouldn’t have said anything.” 

Both of them were completely silent for a time, lost in their own thoughts. When the quiet was broken, it was to both of them speaking at the same time. 

“What if –”

“Well, I –”

Leonard laughed awkwardly. “You go ahead,” he said. 

“No, please,” Marsh said, indicating that Leonard should speak. 

“What if … I mean, maybe this will sound crazy, but what if Jim came and stayed with me?” 

“With you?” Marsh asked, too quickly. 

“Well, why not?” Leonard replied. 

“No, it’s clear that you care about what happens, and you’re obviously very responsible. But you’re very young yourself, Mr. McCoy, and you told me you’re in your third year of medical school. That’s a large time investment.” 

Leonard frowned. “It is,” he agreed. “But is it any worse than putting him in a place with … how many other kids, was it?” 

“Eighteen,” Ms. Marsh said. “Nineteen including Jim.” 

“Is being the only kid with a third year medical student any worse than being one of nineteen in some group home? At least if he comes here he’ll know I _chose_ for him to come, not that a place is taking him because he literally has nowhere else to go.” 

“That’s true, Mr. McCoy, but you also live in Georgia. Generally, we attempt to keep children close to home, so they have something familiar.” 

“Wouldn’t it be better for him to get away from that place? Anyway, he hasn’t really lived there in over a year.” 

“Mr. McCoy.” Ms. Marsh’s voice had grown harder again. “I’m afraid you just don’t understand. When we put children in foster homes, the foster parents are interviewed, they’re vetted, they’re given information they need to know on dealing with children, especially the sort that normally come through the system …”

Leonard waited until she had broken off. “Are you done trying to come up with reasons why Jim shouldn’t come stay with me? Because it sounds to me like it’s the best option he has right now.” 

“I appreciate that. I do,” Marsh said placatingly. “I’m just afraid that you have no idea what you’d be getting yourself into, and if Jim starts to get attached to you and then you change your mind, it could be very hard for him.” 

“I’m not going to change my mind,” Leonard said. 

“You say that now …”

“I’m _not_ going to change it,” he insisted. “You asked me before to trust that you would help Jim. Now I’m asking you to trust me.” He stared hard at Ms. Marsh. “And, if it makes you feel better, there are students in my med school class who already have kids of their own, and they manage. So will I.” 

Marsh was silent for what seemed to be a very long time. “Mr. McCoy, I appreciate your offer, and your … passion for Jim’s case. But I have to ask again. Are you _sure_? This isn’t a decision you have to make right this moment. We could take Jim to the home, give you a week or two to think it through, to decide if it’s something you really want and can handle. And if you change your mind, Jim will never have to know about it.” 

Leonard waited until she was entirely finished speaking. “Ms. Marsh. I do understand your concern, for both me and for Jim. But I’m not a man who does things by halves. I won’t change my mind now, and I won’t change it a week or a month or a year from now. Jim Kirk needs a home, and if I’m the only one willing to give him one, then I want him here with me.” 

Marsh sighed and looked at him with wide, clear eyes. _I hope you know what you’re doing_ , the look said. Leonard got the message. 

“Well then, I suppose we have much more to discuss …”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I forgot to mention this last time, but to give credit where it's due, the title of this work comes from a Pablo Neruda poem.
> 
> I appreciate all who have read! I am going to attempt to update this story weekly, and I'm currently estimating about twelve chapters.

**Author's Note:**

> This is not at all the type of story I would usually write. Additionally, I don't usually like to post anything until it's completely finished. But this story has completely gripped me, and I'm curious what other people think.


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